


In Plain Sight

by Kindris



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: And will Gavin ever take his foot out of his mouth around RK900?, Assassination Attempt(s), Awkward Flirting, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Connor has a life, Gavin Reed Being Less of an Asshole, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Jericho (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Mystery, Undercover, Who's trying to kill Gavin Reed?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26934517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kindris/pseuds/Kindris
Summary: When what seems like an average case gets deadly fast, Gavin finds himself in witness protection. He didn't expect he'd see as much action undercover as he did on the job... or for the handsome android who keeps coming to his rescue to be such an irritating bastard.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 14
Kudos: 54





	In Plain Sight

Four shots were all it took to stall Gavin Reed’s career. 

The first one he fired himself, next to Connor’s head in the evidence room. After the revolution, it got him slapped with a weeks’ suspension, a written warning and a black eye from Hank Anderson. 

The second one was from the third man in a chain of suspects linked to a double homicide, a drug deal gone wrong. Gavin’s ears rang from the proximity, and were still ringing when Chris Miller pushed the suspect into the back of the cruiser. According to the doctor, there was no cause for it. ‘ _Trauma related auditory hallucination, possibly Tinnitus?_ ’ was added to Gavin's medical record.

The third wasn’t a gunshot, but it still hurt all the same. Gavin was handcuffed to a radiator, slurring swears at whoever had him locked up in the dark storage room. The needle was still sticking out of his arm when he was found. Gavin was lifted off his ass like a child, an ambulance popped into existence and its doors opened up like jaws to grab him. If asked later, Gavin would say he definitely didn’t grab his rescuer and scream that he didn’t want to be eaten by a demon bus. 

The fourth shot went into his headboard. Gavin had ducked to find his phone charger, heard the shatter of glass and the crack of breaking wood, and thrown himself under his bed, calling nine one one and yelling for back up before his phone could die. 

Tina got him out of the apartment while the rest of the team canvassed the area for the shooter. Huddled in the back of her car, Gavin couldn’t believe it. This was it. The big one. The highlight of his career. He’d finally pissed off a criminal so much that they’d tried to take him out, and taking them down first would be an achievement he could brag about for years to come.   
  
  
  


“You’re off the case Reed.”

“Like hell I am!” Gavin snapped back. 

Fowler sat on the other side of Hank’s grimy kitchen table, unbothered by the fact the elbows of his jacket were sticking to the thing. 

“This is not a request. This is a fact, and you’re going to have to deal with it.” Fowler said evenly. Gavin seethed in his squeaky plastic seat.

“Deal with it? The way I’ll deal with it is by bringing down whatever asshole is responsible for this! That’s my job!”

“And what do you think my job is Reed? Sending good men to their deaths? No. So far I’ve put up with your insistence on not having a partner and investigating alone because it’s gotten results, but the past few months have led me to wonder if it was worth it. You’ve got no one watching your back, and the department is using resources pulling your ass out of the fire time after time.”

Gavin rolled his eyes.

“Lucky for you I’m no one’s definition of a good man. But I do get results. Having someone sat next to me all day with their thumbs up their ass would be the real waste of resources. Give me a little more time, I can figure this out.”

“How close are you to figuring this out?” Fowler asked, fixing Gavin with a hard stare. Gavin fought the urge to shuffle like an awkward kid caught in a lie.

“Come on, that’s not fair. It’s never as simple as ‘I’m two clues away’. I might find something tomorrow that breaks this thing wide open, it might be weeks.” Gavin tried.

“Then you have some new angle to try tomorrow? Some evidence you haven’t gone over for days, another suspect to interview? Maybe you remember more about your abduction from the docks?”

“That’s a low blow Captain. You know I don’t, I got jumped, and I -“ Gavin protested. Fowler cut him off, slapping one palm flat on the table with a tinny thump. His hard expression wavered for a moment as he peeled his hand off the surface, covered in crumbs. 

“Maybe you wouldn’t have if you didn’t go to an active crime scene alone! But you did. It's a miracle Connor had the resources to track you down at all. And now you have no leads, no new evidence, no idea what you’re doing at all, and you have a hit out on you.”

“I do know what I’m doing. I’m a detective, I’ll go fucking detect something!”

“No. You won’t.”

Gavin bristled for a moment before sitting back, eyes narrowing shrewdly.

“The only way you’re getting me off this case is you fire me, and that ain’t happening. You’re understaffed as it is, you can’t afford to let me go.” He said, folding his arms. The tiny muscle under Fowlers left eye twitched.

“Of course I’m not firing you. Despite what your disciplinary file says, you are a somewhat competent officer -”

“Great. Don't lick my boots too hard.”

“What I am going to do is send you into witness protection.”

Gavin scoffed, leaning forward with a shark-like smile.

“I won’t agree to that. You can’t force me into that program without my consent, and I’m not going. I told you, didn’t I? Either you fire me, or this is my case.”

Fowler let out a long breath. 

“I can’t force you, no. But I can advise you. Strongly. Reed, someone wants you dead. The one person on our staff I’m confident could protect you is Connor, and I already know you’d make that a waste of his time and your own. So until we can find the shooter, find the motive, find out what the fuck is going on with this thread you’ve pulled, this is your best option if you want to stay alive.”

Gavin shook his head.

“It puts me out of action. What am I supposed to do, sit on my ass watching daytime tv for however long it takes someone to figure this out? What’s the point when I could be doing something about myself?”

“The point is you’ll be out of sight so no one can put a bullet through your head. If you don’t understand why the people around you don’t want that to happen, I might have to change my mind from our budget version of WitSec to a suspension pending psychological investigation. How’s your mental health these days Reed?”

Gavin barked out a laugh.

“You’re not serious.”

“Try me.” Fowler shot back. All the humour fell away from Gavin’s face.

“Try you? Don’t tempt me Captain, or you really will have to suspend me.”

“In that case it looks like you’ll be keeping your mouth shut, and doing what's best for you, doesn’t it Reed.”

“No way, you’re not backing me into a corner like this. I’m not leaving. This is my investigation, my risk to take, and it’s my life to put on the line. I might get shot in the line of duty any day, Hell, I might get shot stepping out of my door. I know the risks, and I don’t care.”

“Then you’re going to have to resign.” Fowler said, leaning back, hands folded calmly in front of him. 

Gavin opened his mouth, shut it again. 

“I’m sorry, what?” He managed. Fowler watched him tiredly.

“If my options as your superior officer are to send you knowingly into a situation where you, specifically, are under threat, or to have your resignation, then I will have your resignation.”

Gavin turned the words over in his mind.

“No, this isn’t happening. Why the hell are you acting like my getting shot at is worth this much effort? You send beat cops to shootings in progress all the time, that’s your goddamn job, why are -”

“I am aware of what my job is, Detective. Yours is meant to involve using your head. The apprehension of a violent criminal doesn’t involve one of my officers being targeted at home when he’s not on duty. There is a difference. Now, yes or no - do I have your resignation?”

“What? No, I’m not resigning, fuck that, I -”

“Good.” Fowler stood up, his chair scraping Hank’s floor with a squeal. “I’m glad we’ve reached an agreement.” 

“Captain -”

“We have reached an agreement, Reed? Or were you about to change your answer?” 

Gavin did shuffle this time, nervous energy curling through his veins, cut with a sharp slash of shame.

“Fine. I’ll do it. Fuck it, getting paid full wages to sit around doing nothing might be a nice change of pace.”

Fowler’s shoulders dropped, and an uncomfortable weight settled into Gavin’s gut. The Captain had actually been worried about him? 

Huh. 

Hank ambled in before he could dwell on the thought, Connor trailing after him with a troubled expression. 

“Your report?” Fowler said, all business once more. 

“We were able to extrapolate the position of the shooter based on the bullet’s trajectory, but whoever did this was efficient. They were long gone by the time we were able to examine the scene, and left little trace they’d been there.” Connor explained. 

“We didn’t find shit.” Hank summed up. He turned to Gavin. “Considering the kind of case you’re working, I’m putting my money on a professional. Unless you’ve pissed someone else off recently Reed?”

Gavin made a show of thinking, tapping a finger to his temple.

“Oh yeah! Now I think about it, that hitman I pulled over the other day did swear vengeance on me." Gavin dropped the act. "Pull your head out of your ass Anderson, if this was someone I knew I’d be telling you.” 

“Fuckin charming as always Reed.” Hank said, shaking his head and going for the fridge. 

Connor followed him, casually putting a foot in front of the door and raising a perfect eyebrow. 

Gavin waited for Hank to start yelling. If Gavin so much as stood for too long at the break room coffee machine Hank would snarl at him. Getting in the way of a beer was a fast way to a punch in the face. 

Hank only sighed, backing off and leaning against the kitchen counter.

Gavin caught Fowler’s eye. The Captain looked as stunned as Gavin felt. Gavin shook himself.

Whatever. Who cared. They had bigger fish to fry. 

“So, when do I start? Or stop? Whatever.” Gavin asked. Fowler collected himself.

“Tonight. I’ll send officers to your apartment to grab your things. Until we can allocate you a safehouse, you’re staying at the closest approximation we have. Here.”

“Oh great, staying with Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee is top of my to do list.” Gavin groused.

“Nah, you only get Tweedle Dum.” Hank said with a wry smile, “Connor has better things to do than hang around with an old man and his dog. And now you.”

“Wonderful. I feel so much better.” Gavin said, trying not to look too confused. They didn’t live together? Guess that explained the state of the place. Someone as primped and pressed as Connor wouldn’t stand for a kitchen that smelt like old barbecue sauce. 

Connor didn’t stick around much longer. Hank’s summary was accurate, so he went home to wherever he lived. Fowler stuck around for the beer Hank had after Connor was gone, and Gavin was around for the rest of the night, which didn’t involve drinking at all. 

Totally sober, settled on a sofa too squashy for his tastes and snuggled into a blanket so thick with dog hair he could taste it, Gavin felt miserable. 

“It’s not so bad.” Hank said before he turned out the lights. “At least you won’t have to worry about getting shot at.”  
  
  


Three weeks later, as a tweaking gunman shot at him from behind a rack of chips at the grocery store, Gavin wished he could strangle Hank.

“Of all the fucking bullshit!”

He didn’t have his gun, or a badge, or back up. What he did have was a basket of slightly off onions, a bell pepper and some aluminum foil. If he reached over, he could grab an entire chicken in a can. 

Damn it, why did he pick this shitty store, on this shitty day?

“Stay away from me!” The junkie yelled, firing again. Something exploded next to Gavin and he coughed, wiping dust out of his eyes.

“Oh God! Please, just take the money. You don’t have to shoot anyone. It’s okay, you can have it!”

Because of Cleo. The first time he’d come into her tiny store in Ann Arbour, the little old lady had taken one look at his surly, scarred face and declared he must be a dashing rogue. 

Damn right Gavin Reed was a dashing rogue. He’d come back every day to talk to her. 

The shooting stopped, but Gavin didn’t dare stick his head up to see if the junkie was distracted enough for him to make a move. There was rustling, some off rhythm footsteps, and the thump of a mechanical cash drawer opening.

“It’s...um, that’s not enough! I have to - I gotta pay for stuff, and, and I need - what else have you got, like, credit cards or whatever?”

Gavin ripped a square of foil off, holding the shiny side like a mirror so he could see around the corner. The junkie had turned around. One hand was still on his gun, and he had the cash from Cleo’s register in the other. 

It wasn’t great, but it was an opening to move in. 

Ducking behind a low shelf of ‘ketchups of the world!’ Gavin snuck towards the counter, his weight on the balls of his feet in case he needed to dive for cover again. 

“That’s all I’ve got, I swear. Just walk out of here okay, no one has to get hurt-” Cleo’s wrinkled eyes widened when she spotted Gavin getting closer. If the junkie turned to go, he’d be made. “Oh! Wait, I know! How about subscriptions? I have subscription cards. If I swipe through the register, you could have all of them, you’d sell those for a fortune. Want me to do that for you?” She tried. The gunman stopped. 

“Huh? Oh, um - Yeah? Have you got one for the TV? That’s some good shit. You know they’re remaking Game of Thrones next year?”

“They are?” Cleo gasped, touching a hand to her heart, “What service was that on honey? I’ll get it for you.”

“Shit, let me get my phone out, I can’t remember-”

Gavin crept up behind him. The second the junkie put the gun down and reached into his pocket for the phone, Gavin jumped him. He resisted announcing that he was Detroit police as he twisted and threw the junkie to the floor, but muscle memory had it on the tip of his tongue. Damn he wanted a pair of handcuffs. 

Junkies, Gavin found, came in two flavours. There were the ones who gave up, and the ones who found getting sat on so offensive they got the kind of adrenaline and strength boost a young parent gets when their baby is in danger.

Thank fuck whoever this guy was was the first kind. He went limp when Gavin pinned his arms to his sides and started shivering. He might have been crying, but Gavin stopped paying attention. 

“You okay Cleo?” He called up from the floor. Cleo’s head appeared over the side of the counter as she leant over. 

“Just fine Joe. You alright down there?” 

“Yeah, I got him, he’s not going anywhere. You got a panic button or are you going to call the cops?”

“I’ll call, but I’m hoping someone heard the shots and they’re already coming. This is a nice neighbourhood you know. This sort of thing shouldn’t happen here!” 

Gavin nodded sympathetically. 

“Yeah, world’s really gone crazy, hasn’t it?”

Underneath him, the junkie let out a muffled noise of agreement. Gavin gave him a warning rap on the back of the head and he shut up.

“I’ve got them Honey, I’m on with the dispatch. Yes, hello? My store was almost robbed, I need someone down here right away … Yes, that’s us ... Oh they are? Just one? ... Sure thing honey, we’ll wait. It’s all under control.” Cleo winked and Gavin gave her his most dashing, roguish grin. She waved him off as she hung up. 

“I don’t know how a handsome young man like you is still looking for work Joe. Flash that smile at the interviewer and you’re a shoo-in.” She said, coming around the counter to go to the door. The window next to it was shattered and the door frame had a chunk missing from the gunshots. Gavin hoped her savings wouldn’t be too hurt by fixing the place up again. 

Maybe he’d have to buy that whole chicken in a can after all. 

“Oh my.” She said, running a shaking hand across the damage. “You know, my Jamie could have had this fixed up in a jiffy. He came programmed with all that.” Cleo said, eyeing up the gouge. “Although I’m glad he missed this. He was gentle as a summer breeze, he’d have hated it.”

“Programmed? You had an android?”

Cleo nodded, still watching down the street for the police. 

“Sure did. He worked for me, if you can call it that. He went off to Detroit last year; you know when they had the marches? I sent him off with my husband’s old coat and scarf. It was all I could do for him. He called me when it was all over. Said he was staying in Detroit and he hoped I’d understand. And I did. I do. But I worry.”

“Detroit’s not so bad.” Gavin defended. Cleo shook her head.

“It’s not like it was, but it’s still not safe. I hear the craziest things about what goes on over there. Have you heard about the drugs they get from androids? I had a customer come in here the other day saying they saw someone sucking the blood out of one like a vampire. A vampire! Can you believe it?”

“I don’t want to, but if you’re saying it, I know it’s the gospel truth.” Gavin said, as though he hadn’t seen the crime scenes photos.

“Flatterer!” Cleo said with a laugh, glancing back at him. For all her hardy cheer, her eyes were still too wide, her breaths a little too fast. The sooner the police turned up to get the shooter out of the store, the happier Gavin would be.

A noise snapped Cleo’s attention back to the street.

“Gracious. Joe, get your best face on, I know I will. This one is a tall glass of water. Why hello officer!”

“Huh?” Gavin tried to see around her. Cleo stepped aside to let a tall, poised figure though. At first all he saw was dark hair and pale skin. Then he recognised the face. “Connor? What are you doing here?” 

The man stepped closer, eyes roving the floor, taking in bullet casings and the shattered remains of an unfortunate bag of cheesy Doritos. 

“I’m not Connor. My name is RK900. Connor was my predecessor.” He looked up and Gavin caught a glimpse of ice blue eyes in a too familiar face. The android paused for a moment, LED blinking yellow once, twice, before swirling back to blue. “I assume the suspect is the man … under you?”

The junkie lifted a foot off the ground and wiggled it, like he was trying to wave.

“That’s me.” He said, sounding giddy. Whatever he was on seemed to be giving him a good trip. “You can get off now. Promise I won’t go nowhere.”

“What do you say tin man, think you can handle this one?” Gavin challenged. RK900 didn’t do anything except cast an assessing look over Gavin and his prisoner. Gavin felt like he was being looked at by someone with X-ray vision, naked down to his bones.

“I was built to military grade specifications. I could handle him even if he was driving a tank.” He replied. Gavin let out a whistle, willing his breath not to catch.

“Did something change? Last I heard, military grade was code for the cheapest option that could get the job done.”

RK900 raised a perfect eyebrow at him. It made him look even more like Connor, but he was missing Connor’s exasperation. Damn it, it just made him look cool. 

“I’m still more than you could ever afford, _Joe_.” He said. 

Oh, this fucker knew exactly who Gavin was. Shit, he probably knew everything about him. If he’d ever talked to Connor, he probably knew… everything. Shit. Time to stop flirting. 

Wait, was he flirting? Why was he flirting?

“Uh, right. Well, if you’ve got this, I’ll just - I’ll get up.”

Gavin swung his leg off the junkie, who lay there like nothing about his situation had changed. He got up with knees shaking a little from leftover adrenaline. 

RK900 picked up the floppy suspect with enviable ease. Gavin wished he had that kind of strength, floppy perps were the worst.

“Thank you for your assistance.” RK900 said. Gavin pinked, hearing what he didn’t say. _Aren’t you supposed to be laying low?_

“Yeah yeah. I’ll keep out of trouble, you won’t be seeing me again.” He said. Somehow, this was going to get back to the DPD. Somehow, he was going to end up looking like an idiot. At least RK900 could give them the message it wasn’t on purpose, and wouldn’t happen again. Not deliberately anyway. 

RK900 gave him a long, lingering look.

“You will? What a shame. I was looking forward to what the next demonstration of your talents might be.”

“Won’t that be a nice thought to keep you awake at night.” Gavin shot back. RK900 leant towards him, his eyeline above where Gavin was used to looking for Connor’s. The bastard was definitely taller, and he looked broader too. That might just have been his tight shirt though. RK900 gave him a quick sharp smile, his blue eyes gleaming under the cheap fluorescent lights.

“You might be entertaining, but you’re not nearly enough to distract me.”

He turned without another word, half dragging, half carrying the giggling junkie onto the street. Gavin watched him until he was out of sight, his mouth hanging open.

Cleo shut the door after the android, then came over to pat Gavin on the shoulder.

“Honey, I haven’t seen a boy pull pigtails like that since third grade. I’d ask what the hell is wrong with you, but you both seemed to like it.” She shook her head wonderingly. “Please tell me you’re going to ask this Connor boy for officer nine’s number.”

Gavin glanced at Cleo, then back to the door, like RK900 might come back for more. 

“I… maybe?” He said. Cleo gave his arm a light smack. 

“Don’t you maybe me. I’m going to tell this story to all my girlfriends, and I’m going to need a good update.”

Gavin tried for a charming smile.

“Is that all I am to you Cleo, a source of gossip?”

She gave him a sweet look, batting her eyelashes. 

“Of course not Honey. You’re a customer too. Now, are you going to pay for that foil?” She laughed as Gavin’s face fell. “Oh, you are too much! After today I think we can call that on the house.”

Somehow between the adrenaline drop and how weirdly he felt about tall androids, Gavin found it in himself to laugh. 

“You’re something else Cleo.” 

“My goal in life.” She said, moving off to start clearing up. “Oh, Joe? You’re covered in cheese dust.”

Gavin looked down at himself, covered in orange flavouring and crumbs, then to the packet of chips on the floor. 

“Ah shit.”

**Author's Note:**

> Adapted from the prompt: Gavin gets involved with a case that ends up with him in witness protections until the catch the bad guy. He gets temporarily relocated to another city and he's instructed to lie low and stay out of trouble.   
> Here's the problem with Gavin. He doesn't know how to stay out of trouble. He can't sit at home. He tries to lay low and even gets a job at a grocery store but one night after closing, he gets mugged and so he takes the person out and hand delivers them to the local police department. Where he sees Connor.   
> Except, that's not Connor.


End file.
